


Power Hungry

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Betrayal, Multi, also relationships are kind of a free-for-all, but a lot of implied freewood, it'll progressively get more intense, present and past, there will be shifts and changes and such, torture and abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:39:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world (Earth) where some people are born with a power set, Geoff Ramsey collects the lost, orphaned and downright crazy. He takes care of them, and they take care of him. Enter big corporate company: Rooster Teeth; known for churning out celebrity superheroes (see: pin-up duo, Barbs and Meg, or the axe-welding Electric Viking, Adam Ellis). Figurehead of the company, Burnie Burns, intrudes on Geoff Ramsey’s humble hide-out, and he and his five lost boys discover a world of production behind the maintenance of the hero image that would make superhero fanatics question their alliances…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burnie Burns, God Complex Douche.

   The Smokebomb was probably the most effective of the Lads’ getaway plans. A combination of Gavin’s manipulation of fire and Ray’s manipulation of shadows that caused a thick, black smoke to engulf the vicinity, confuse the enemy, and allow room for the second most effective of the Lads’ getaway plans – _run_. Despite its 100% success rate of enemy evasion it was rarely used due to its awfully high flammability and Gavin’s awfully low ability to actually control his elemental power. Even the slightest stimulation was sure to set something ablaze whilst Gavin was around. Under the cover of the Smokebomb, there was no taking chances.

   When Michael picked a fight with the wrong guy, however, the Smokebomb, as a last resort, had to be administered.

   “I swear to the stars, Gavin, we would be so fucking powerful if you learnt how to control your fucking fire.” Michael groaned, leaning against the grotty brick wall lining one side of the alleyway they’d retreated to.

   “What d’you mean!? I did well that time! You’re not on fire, are you?” Gavin retaliated, gesturing frustratedly to Michael and his very obvious state of not being on fire, but the mere action of gesturing teamed with his frustration sent flames dancing from his fingertips, making Michael flinch.

   “Put your gloves back on, asshole. And no, I’m not on fire but I was terrified that whole time that I would be.”

   With a sigh, Gavin forced his hands into the black and green flame-proof gloves that he had resorted to wearing anytime his powers weren’t needed.

   “I mean, he technically has a point, Gav.” Ray frowned, shrugging his shoulders.

   Gavin threw him a look. “Oh, don’t start, Ray.”

   “No, I’m just saying, elemental powers are one of the rarest, and you know the rarest powers are the most… powerful. If you could just get a grip on the basics of fire-welding-”

   “Jack’s got an elemental power too!” Gavin interjected.

   Michael threw up his hands, rolling his eyes before letting them fall to Gavin. “Yeah, which is why our little rag-tag group is so lucky! We have  _two_  Elementals! Excepted one of them is great because he’s actually fully grasped the concept of what to do and how to do it, and the other one is fucking useless!”

   It was Ray’s turn to sigh. “Come on, he’s not usele- Gavin, you’re not useless. But maybe if you just got Jack to teach you…”

   “I don’t need anyone to teach me anything, okay? What we need is for Michael not to lose his temper every five seconds! Geoff said ‘in, get the money, and out’, not ‘in, pick a fight, and out without the money’. This should have been  _easy_ , but Mr. Rage over there can’t seem to control his bloodlust! Bloody nutcase you are, Michael.”

  Michael visibly bristled at that, gritting his teeth and balling his hands to fists. “Gavin, you piece of shit, I will knock your fucking lights out if you-”

   “ALRIGHT, let’s go home.” Ray interjected, putting a steady hand on Michael’s chest to stop him from lunging at Gavin. Michael seemed to consider pushing Ray away for a second, before giving a resigned nod and turning to continue down the back alley, towards the adjacent street from which they’d came.

 

* * *

   

   Ryan sat on the window sill, peering at the outside world that was partially visible between the rotting wooden boards that obscured the glass. He felt an irritation throbbing through his mind that did not belong to him. He turned his head to look at Geoff, who was fixing himself a sandwich in the kitchen area, absent-mindedly humming along to whatever music was stuck in his head. If he focused intently enough he could hear the baseline, the electronic twang of instruments and the squeal of lyrics. The song was unfamiliar to him, but Geoff’s feelings were not: he was content – slightly impatient waiting for the Lads to return, but content.  He turned instead to Jack. He was settled comfortably on the couch, reading a book about plants. Ryan sensed from him concentration, piqued interest and, as usual of Jack, a reassuring and peaceful sense of calm.

   The irritation must have been coming from one of the Lads. Ryan guessed Michael. Out of the five other men in the group, Michael seemed to consistently have the strongest and subsequently easiest emotions to pick up on. Through years of private experimentation Ryan had found that while distance seemed to dim his ability sense a person’s thoughts and feelings, since the day he had met him this had never been true for Michael. Ryan had a theory that through some fault of Michael’s power he was only able to experience one emotion at a time, making the said emotion overbearingly strong and impossible to miss.

   Of course, Ryan could also pick up Gavin’s signals over a longer distance than anyone else’s, but with him it had been a steady incline over time and Ryan put it down to the fact that out of everyone he knew he had the closest relationship with the over-excitable pyro-fanatic.  

   “What’s eating you, buddy?” Geoff asked, plate in hand as he moved over to the couch. Ryan returned his gaze silently. Geoff nodded. “Alright. Good talk.” He resolved with a half-smile.

   Ryan had been the butt of many “good talk” jokes over the years - understandably considering he refused to communicate verbally. Any word-based interaction he’d administer would only be with Geoff, Jack, Gavin, Michael or Ray, and would occur telepathically. But even that was seldom. Michael would often ask Geoff what the point of keeping him around was, and the older man would always have the same answer –  _‘Because, obviously, he set up this telepathic link between us that means we can always keep tabs on one another – which I know you think is annoying because we have to listen to Gavin’s ridiculous internal monologue half the time seeing as he has an awful filter – but it’s fucking useful, and also Ryan is intelligent as dicks and a great asset’_. And then he would walk off and, in his head, add  _‘and I found him, just the same as I found all of you’_ , a thought which was accompanied by a strong surge of paternal affection. Geoff always thought Ryan was oblivious to that last part, which he wasn’t, because Geoff didn’t have such a great filter either; at least not to Ryan’s mind.

 

* * *

 

 

   The Lads’ dejected walk home was abruptly interrupted by a sleek, black limousine pulling up to the curb beside them. The trio stopped, their faces wearing matching expressions of interest.  The passenger door closest to them – which adorned the famous and beloved logo of a white rooster silhouette beside a set of false teeth – opened to allow a well-dressed and curly-haired man to step out.  His black suit was luxuriously well-tailored, his red tie stark against his white shirt, and though he wore the black frame of glasses on his handsome face, they had no lenses. He regarded each of the Lads in turn, before greeting them with a slow, charming, well-practised but familiar smile. Familiar, not because any of them had seen it in person before, but because it was frequently plastered on the several electronic billboards around the city.

   Michael glanced at limo, the logo and finally the man, and gave him a petulant smirk. “Inconspicuous.” He noted sarcastically. Ray and Gavin where overwhelmingly aware of the hostility that seemed to seep from his skin like sweat.

   “ _Ohh_ ,” Burnie blew a raspberry-type noise from his mouth and waved a hand in front of his face dismissively. “If you know who I am, you’ll know I don’t need to be inconspicuous.” His smile returned, but faltered slightly at their silence. “You do know who I am, I trust?”

   “No shit.” Michael commented, and Gavin did have to admit that he shared his annoyance.

   “Burnie Burns.” Gavin forced out.  _What a douche_. He added internally to Michael and Ray. Burnie’s eyes fell on him with a glint of amusement.

   “Well that was unwarranted.” He said with a scoff of a laugh.

   “Shit.” Gavin muttered.

   Ray shook his head at him slightly “Rookie mistake.”

  “Rookie mistake indeed.” Burnie agreed. “And speaking of inconspicuous, it’s kinda bold of you three to be casually walking the streets after that bust-up mission.”

   “That’s none of your fucking business.” Michael spat.

   “Okay, chill out, sweetheart.” Burnie laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not here to attack you. I have a preposition for ya.” He pushed the limo door open slightly wider and gestured at the interior. “Come on in and we’ll have a discussion about it.”

   Michael barked out a humourless laugh. “Thanks, but no thanks, Burns. We know what you’re about, and we’re not interested.” He grabbed an arm of both men beside him and made a move to walk them away.

   “If you know what I’m about then you’ll know walking away from me is a mistake.” His tone was still playful, but something about it sent chills up Gavin’s spine.

   “Yeah, no, we’re not in the mood to be exploited anytime soon. Take your preposition to someone without a backbone.” Michael threw over his shoulder.

   “Exploited?” Burnie spluttered. If they’d have been looking at him they’d have seen his face fall from a friendly business front to something entirely darker. “Ladies. The boys need sorting out.”

   The command that was directed at someone else made the three of them turn around, back to Burnie. Two women stepped out behind him, one with vibrant red curls and a wicked grin, the other smiling softly, her blonde hair accentuated with pink streaks. Like Burnie, their faces were familiar from city billboards, the news and Saturday night television. The Aphrodites – super heroine pin-up duo, stoppers of crime, breakers of hearts, and family favourites on Jon Risinger’s talk-slash-game show,  _Rising Stars._

Any sarcastic or dismissive comeback Michael had lined up was dropped and trodden on at the sight of Meg Turney and Barbara Dunkelman, and the impending prospect of them using their powers against him or one of the other Lads. Sensing this, Burnie smiled – this time it was unfriendly and self-assured smile that said ‘ _gotcha!’_

   “Do as I say, boys, and these two will let you off the hook.”


	2. Fuck With My Crew and I'll Fuck With You.

   Ryan was becoming increasingly agitated as the sun began to set and the Lads still had not returned. He removed himself from the perch he had occupied for the past two hours or so and engaged in a back-and-forth pace, running his hands through his hair anxiously. After a few circuits around the breakfast bar, he returned to the window, glancing out for a sign of the younger men with no avail. He turned away quickly, letting out a low grunt of frustration. Geoff and Jack both looked up from the couch; any verbal noise Ryan made was always a shock to hear. Michael would comment on how he sounded more like an animal than a human, to which Geoff would always throw him a stern look.

   “You alright over there?” Geoff asked, his tone comforting. “Missing the Lads?” He enquired further, and was met by the silence that he had expected. “I’m sure they’re fine, Ryan. You know what they’re like. They probably got the money and then decided to go mess around somewhere, like the idiots they are.” He smiled reassuringly.

   “Yeah they’re probably circle jerking in the park or something, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Jack added.

   Jack and Geoff were used to Ryan getting distressed easily, so neither of them were surprised when he just turned away and began wringing his hands, eyes fixed on the window.

   He reached out to the Lads internally, probing for any sign of what any of them were feeling since Michael’s previous frustration had subsided sometime within the last hour. For a moment there was nothing.

   And then there was something, and Ryan didn’t like it.

 

* * *

 

 

   “Listen, boys.” Burnie sat between Meg and Barbara, a bottle of fresh-from-the-ice-bucket beer dripping condensation onto his leg. He’d offered one to Gavin, Michael and Ray, but they had all declined. “I’m not unreasonable. I just want you to hear me out. If you want to decline my offer then that’s fine – but just… let’s have a conversation about it.”

   Michael rolled his eyes. The Lads sat opposite Burnie and The Aphrodites, Michael in the middle with his arms folded across his chest and his legs wide apart and leaning on both Gavin and Ray. It was a protective and possessive stance. Michael, though he never outwardly expressed or over-enforced it, did consider himself the leader of the three. “Oh sure, threats aren’t unreasonable.”

   Gavin nudged him, failing at subtlety and catching Burnie’s eye. He would’ve sent Michael an internal message telling him to tone down the sarcasm had Burnie not already infiltrated that mode of communication. Gavin slunk down in his seat a little, focusing on the vibrations of the moving vehicle, the comforting rumble of the engine that made him think of the road trip outside of Achievement City Geoff had taken them on a few years ago. Burnie wasn’t taking them anywhere in particular in the limo – he’d merely knocked on the partition on told the driver to do a few laps around the block whilst they talked.

   “Look, we know what you want from us.” Ray started, making Burnie raise an eyebrow as a prompt for him to continue.  “You’ve scouted us out and want to make us celebrity superheroes, and we appreciate the offer but that’s just not our thing, okay? I don’t think there’s much you could say to persuade us.”

   “Alright, so we’ve got the Brute and the Brains…” Burnie said, pointing at Michael and Ray respectively.  “And you…” He focused on Gavin. “What’s your role?”  
   “He brings the fucking fire.” Michael smirked. “Literally.”

   “ _Michael._ ” Gavin squeaked in surprise. One of the main rules of getting by that Geoff had taught them was that much like a magician shouldn’t give away their secrets, an unlicensed power-carrier should never divulge the details of their power set.

   “Dude, this guy’s obviously been tracking us for a while; he knows what we can do.” Ray sighed. The knowledge made a dryness settle in Gavin’s throat. It made him wish he’d taken that beer. “Question is, why’s he being so allusive and not getting straight to the fucking point.”

   At that, the three youngest in the limo looked towards Burnie expectantly.

   “Make a meeting too quick and you don’t get to judge anyone’s character.” Burnie revealed after an impassive silence. “When I make celebrities, their power is second to their personality. Can’t sell a superhero who doesn’t appeal to some strain of your heart, can we?” He’d taken his glasses off by now and had one arm of the frame between his teeth, chewing thoughtfully.

   “I’d have thought that you’d base a superhero’s worth off of their ability to, you know, serve and protect, or whatever.” Michael said, shaking his head.

   Burnie laughed. “We’re not the police. If we were, we’d have arrested you for attempting a robbery back there. And, you know, the three other times this month.” He shook his head, but his smile was still in place. It was starting to grind Michael how Burnie Burns seemed to be in a constant state of amusement.

   “Alright, listen, fuckface.” Michael fixed the older man with a stern and defiant gaze. His sudden change of tempo, the sudden shift in attitude from _pissed-off-kid-in-a-boring-classroom_ to _pissed-of-rival-about-to-throw-down-the-glove,_ had Burnie’s smile wipe clean off his smug face in place of a guarded frown. His eyes darted quickly to each Aphrodite before falling back to Michael. “You’ve seen us, you know what we’re capable of. Sure we’re a little disorganised and impulsive, but the point is, this guy-” He jabbed his thumb towards Ray. “Could make you feel like you’ve never seen sunshine in your life. I could punch your dick clean off. And Gav? Fucking Elemental. He’ll set your sorry ass on fire the mo-”

   “He won’t be doing that.” Burnie interrupted flatly.

   “Oh, he won’t?” Michael challenged.

   “No.”

   “You sure?”

   “Positive.” Burnie confirmed with a curt nod. Just as Michael opened his mouth with all intentions of ordering Gavin to ditch the gloves and show Burnie what he was made of, Burnie turned to Meg with a pointed look that had Michael stop in his tracks.

   She leaned towards Gavin so quickly the Lads barely had time to register the movement. But there she was, one hand around Gavin’s wrist and the other slowly, deliberately pulling off his glove. Michael reached out to push her hand away but the moment his skin touched hers he had to pull away and hiss at the sting he’d felt – not similar to an electric shock - more like a dull ache, or a cramp. The very instant Gavin realised what he was in for was the same instant that Meg wrapped her fingers around his own now bare ones, and every muscle in his arm seized up.

   “As you can see, _Gav_ over there is experiencing some pain.” Burnie nodded his head towards Gavin who indeed had his face scrunched in the way one does when experiencing excruciating muscle spasms. For the moment, Meg was directing pain into just his arm. Unfortunately, Gavin didn’t even come close to having a high pain tolerance and his eyes were already red and watering. “Another word out of line and it only gets worse for your precious Elemental.”

   “What was it you said about not being unreasonable?” Michael questioned, but his defiance was immediately shut down by Gavin’s sudden exclamation.

   “ _Gah- Michael. Shut. Up._ ” He forced out between gritted teeth. The pain had spread, snaking through his shoulder and driving up his neck. Michael was shocked at how _pink_ Gavin’s skin had become, and the prominence his veins had taken on – popping from under his flesh with a severity that made Michael’s own pulse throb.

   Ray glanced anxiously at Barbara opposite him, wondering if she would make a move on either him or Michael, but she sat placidly, hands folded over her knees and legs crossed at the ankles. She sat still enough to be a painting, watching Meg and Gavin unblinkingly, mouth set in a straight-lined, unreadable expression. Although currently docile, Ray obviously wasn’t going to trust that she wouldn’t snap into action as suddenly as Meg had.

   The trouble for him with being in a moving car was that the _shadows_ were constantly moving. He could only focus on a spot of darkness for so long before the light changed with the turn of the vehicle or a bump in the road. He couldn’t get a stable enough handle on any kind of manipulation that might have been useful.

   “Now boys,” Burnie said after clearing his throat and snapping both Ray and Michael’s attention back to him. Gavin kept his ears as receptive as he could through the pain. “You can shout ‘til you’re blue in the face about how you’re too falsely humble to admit the appeal of recognition,” He said this looking exclusively at Ray. “Or too proud of the tough skin you've developed as a kid born and raised on the streets to give up whatever morals you’ve convinced yourself you have by refusing luxury,” He switched his calculative gaze to Michael. “But I am handing you a golden offer that not many people receive. I’m asking you to join my company because you have potential that will never reach its full heights without professional guidance. You think I’d just seen a gang of feral street cats and decided I wanted to tame them?”

   “Yes!” Michael couldn’t help but blurt out. “I think that’s exactly what you’ve done!”

   Ray made a small exasperated noise, and it didn’t take long for Michael to regret opening his mouth. He pursed his lips quickly, hoping the expression on his face would be apology enough for Burnie. Surprisingly, his face seemed to soften. As he leaned forwards slightly, resting an elbow on his knee and placing his fake glasses back on his face, Michael could’ve almost believed he was part of a civil discussion. Gavin’s stiffened form beside him, however, was a glaring reminder that they were not in a safe position.

   “Remember when I said a person’s power comes second to their personality before I consider them? You need something to work with. A certain gusto or flare. Like these two?” He gestured with both hands to each of the women beside him. “They didn’t know each other before me. I knew them individually, I knew they were both great, but together they would be _awesome._ Having just Barbs or just Meg as your average solo heroine would’ve been cool, sure, but nothing compared to the hilarious, collectively gorgeous, fucking dynamic duo that they are because I combined them.” Ray found himself nodding slightly at that – not in complete agreement, more as a sign of consideration. It was true that the Aphrodites were popular favourites, not only for their ability to bring down a bad guy, but because they _fit together._ Meg on her own was too fierce and intimidating and Barbara on her own was soft and easy to underestimate, but together they balanced out, like turning an incendiary bullet and a cluster of forest trees into a warm campfire. A beacon of safety and friendship. And, yes, they were hilarious – their T.V. appearances showed a relationship based on a witty back-and-forth rapport, blended with heart-warming moments of mutual encouragement and… and Ray could see where Burnie was going with this.

   “We already have a dynamic.” Ray hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it passed through his lips anyway.

   Burnie smiled, his face lighting up with encouragement and what might have been hope. “ _Exactly,_ Ray. The three of you… you’re strangely… lovable. You’ve got this powerhouse of fury between the-voice-of-reason personified and…” He trailed off, looking at Gavin in earnest. Gavin had been the quietest during this particular exchange and it meant that Burnie hadn’t been able to get as good a read of him as he would’ve liked. He couldn’t exactly get much out of him now that his concentration was overrun by relentless waves of pain passing from Meg’s hand to his, but he couldn’t exactly tell her to stop because – Michael had a point – there was nothing else stopping him from setting something or someone on fire.

   And then Ray stepped in.

   “And a guy too ridiculous to be taken seriously on his own, but somehow acts as this trio’s unconventional glue.”

   “Yes.” Burnie nodded approvingly, pointing at Ray. “Yes, _that._ ” Burnie looked appeased whilst Michael turned to Ray with a face that screamed ‘ _traitor’._

In fact, he sent it to him. _Traitor._ He hissed through the telepathic link, not caring if Burnie heard or not. He want Ray to really feel the emotion behind it, the venom he’d laced the word with that could only be felt through a psychic bond.

_Traitor. Traitor._

His frown was almost comical in its intensity. Ray sighed in a way that an exasperated parent dealing with a child’s tantrum might, and looked at Burnie with an expression that was somewhat apologetic, but mostly self-assured.

   “Okay I- _we_ understand you… we understand what you mean, but… it’s just not-”

   “It’s not what we want.” Michael said, keeping his tone as diplomatic as was possible for him.

   There was a moment in which Michael and Ray’s hearts dropped and a fear on behalf of Gavin rose in them as Burnie’s smile faded and he look at Meg. But he simply nodded at her to release her grip on Gavin, and knocked on the partition to signal the driver to stop. Gavin leaned back and sighed at the bliss of release for only a second before fumbling to find his glove to put back on.

   “Okay. Okay fair enough.” Burnie resolved. The silence now that the car had stopped moving seemed more overwhelming then previous silences. There was no hum of the engine to fill the space, or flash of passing scenery to occupy eyes. There was just the Lads faced off with Burnie and the Aphrodites, all regarding each other with equal suspicion and expectance. “Okay.” Burnie repeated, cutting into the tension. “If you change your mind…” He pulled out a business card, which Michael reached out to take but Burnie instead gave to Ray, slipping it to him between a handshake. His grip was firm, his eyes searching Ray’s as if waiting or looking for something.

   When they broke away from the handshake, Gavin made hast in pushing the door open, stepping out into the night and gulping down deep breaths of fresh air as if he’d just been drowning. He still felt shakey, particularly in his left arm where Meg had done the most damage. He tried to massage his muscles into relaxation but they remained tense and slightly tingly. When Michael put a hand on his shoulder it made him jump, and when he looked up the limo was gone.

   “Well that was a fucking ordeal.” Michael sighed. “You alright, boy?”

   “Yeah.” Gavin nodded. “Fine.” He reassured, but couldn’t resist the urge to shake Michael’s hand off of him. When Michael flinched, taking offence, he diverted his attention to the third lad. “What’s up with Ray?”

   Michael turned. Ray’s face had taken on the kind of papery pale gauntness that implied sickness, and his brow was furrowed as he looked down and tried to steady his breathing – which had become notably laboured.

   “Yeah… I don’t feel so good…” He whispered breathlessly, throwing a hand out in time for Michael to catch and steady him.

   “Please don’t tell me I’m gonna have to carry you home.” Michael groaned.


	3. Family Portrait.

   Gavin tried to remain solemn on the journey home, mainly through principle, but the sight of Michael begrudgingly carrying Ray through the streets of Achievement City piggy-back style had him in a fit of giggles. At one point he had to stop and gag, bracing his hands on his knees and choking on his own laughter, much to Ray’s dismay.

   “Gavin, why.” He intoned, his voice sounding worn out.

   “He wanted to turn _us_ into superheroes. _Us._ ” Gavin gestured to Ray and Michael’s current arrangement before breaking down into giggles that sounded closer to bird-like squawks. Michael began to smile. He’d been so mad at Burnie earlier and he hadn’t even stopped to consider why. It was _this_ , he realised: these moments here where the three barley twenty-year-olds just _were._ Superheroes didn’t get to just _be._ Superheroes had national responsibilities and an image to maintain, and Michael didn’t like the suggestion that every bond they’d formed and all the things they’d learnt together were disposable in the name of fame.

   Sure, the idea of being recognised and loved for taking down bad guys was cool. The idea of the Lads using their powers for some greater good rather than scraping a few dollars from some nobody just so that they could afford living expense _was_ neat in theory. Michael would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about a superhero lifestyle before – what kid living in Achievement City hasn’t? But, _this,_ he thought, watching the progression of Gavin’s amusement as he forgot about the pain Meg had just inflicted, and feeling Ray’s weight on him, feeling the hands on his shoulders that conveyed trust, _this_ was more important than a childish dream. This was real life – _his_ life – and he was thankful for it.

 

* * *

 

   Telepathic links were complicated. Ryan himself, as a telepath, was frequently baffled by the variations in telepathic communications. When Geoff had asked Ryan to set up the link between the six of them the plan had been, as Geoff himself put it, _so that they could keep tabs on one another –_ one would assume through sharing thoughts six ways. But it just wasn’t that simple. Geoff seemed to be able to shut himself off from the link at his own free will – not necessarily always able to shield his own thoughts (that seemed to be Ray’s forte) – but just… switch off everyone else’s signals. Jack was particularly good at picking up the others’ _emotions_ , but like Geoff he had also developed a knack for blocking out everyone’s thoughts and feelings if he chose to. Michael and Gavin were opposites in that Michael had absolutely no filter on his emotions and Gavin had absolutely no filter on his thoughts; however Michael’s thoughts were often guarded, as were Gavin’s emotions. And Ray could completely silence himself and fall off the radar.

   In terms of communication, Geoff and Jack tended to prefer relaying messages through images, showing the others things they had seen, whereas the Lads, particularly within their trio, would literally talk to each other in their heads – like an internal phone call.

   Ryan picked up everything. Save for, of course, when someone was explicitly shielding something – but even then it was harder to shield things from Ryan then from anyone else. It irked him that though he was the one who was actually the telepath, he didn’t share Geoff and Jack’s ability to shut off from anything. It was like a curse within the power. Even thoughts of people outside of the link would leak into his brain whenever they were near.

   The Lads weren’t near, but with some concentration, Ryan was hit by their signals as if they were in the room. Michael’s frustration had returned. This in itself was not unusual, but there was a protective strain to his frustration this time that had Ryan worried. And then he felt pain – actual physical pain. Ryan had discovered that he was the only one out of the six of them who would physically share the same pain as someone else, and right now his left arm was cramping like a motherfucker.

   It was then that he really started to freak out, and Geoff began to make his way over, his face painted with concern. Jack wore a similar expression as he looked at Ryan over the back of the couch.

   “Ryan?” Geoff ducked his head to try and catch his eye. “What’s going on?”

   _Traitor._ The thought came to Ryan’s mind, and it must’ve been loud because Geoff flinched.

  “Who’s a traitor?” His features twisted from concern to confusion. Jack was starting to stand now.

   Ryan didn’t like the attention being turned on him so intensely and he didn’t know how to give them answers so he backed out, walking away from them and hurriedly retreating to his bedroom. He closed the door and threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He was vaguely aware of Geoff and Jack tuning into the link to figure out for themselves what was going on with the Lads, whilst he himself tried desperately to tune out. He knew that the _‘traitor’_ had come from Michael and didn’t want to think about the implications of it. He knew the pain was coming from Gavin and he especially didn’t want to think about that. And Ray was silent. Silence was always unsettling.

   In all fairness it was a short while before the pain subsided. Despite the normality that the Lads mental processes seemed to return to, he still felt uneasy. If anything, the closer he could feel them getting, the more nervous he became.

 

* * *

 

   “What happened? Ryan freaked out on us. You don’t have the money? Jesus Christ, guys, what went wrong? Who is a traitor?” Geoff bombarded the Lads with questions the second they walked through the door.

   _Don’t tell him._ Gavin sent the message to Michael and Ray.

   “I heard that.” Geoff was almost shouting. “Don’t tell me what?”

   “Bollocking bastard.” Gavin muttered. “Alright Lads, you deal with this one. I’m gonna go check on Ryan.” He said, jogging off whilst Michael rolled his eyes.

   “Woah, is Ray okay?” Jack came forward quickly, reaching out to steady Ray as he slid off Michael’s back and struggled to stay firmly on his feet.

   “I… uhh… I don’t know.” Ray shook his head as Jack guided him over to the couch. “I just started to feel really weird after…” He trailed off, his eyes sliding over to Michael as if asking if he should continue.

   “After we were ambushed by Burnie Burns.” Michael finished for him, crossing his arms tightly. He and Geoff joined Jack and Ray in the sitting area.

   “What!?” Geoff exclaimed, brows furrowed in a fierce line, eyes flicking from Michael to Ray and back again.

   “Is that why you didn’t get the money?” Jack asked. He preoccupied himself feeling Ray’s forehead and checking his pulse.

   “Nah the robbery went to shit before that, but that’s not important right now-”

   “Well it kind of is.” Jack interrupted Michael. “We need that money to go food shopping-”

   “No, he’s right, Jack. What the fuck happened with Burnie Burns.” Geoff said the name with such venom that it had Michael and Ray glancing at each other questioningly. They were used to him bad-mouthing the figurehead – he had done so since they were young, constantly warning them about the big, bad Rooster Teeth whenever it popped up on TV – but sometimes when he talked about it he got really intense, as if he had a personal vendetta against the man.

   “Well…” Michael started. “What the fuck do you think happened? He wanted us to be his new pet superheroes.”

   “Fucking typical.” Geoff sat back in his seat, twirling the ends of his moustache. “He’s probably creaming himself over you because there hasn’t been a superhero trio in… a while. They’re all singles and doubles now. Well anyway,” He threw his hands up and the brought them down onto his knees with an audible slap. “That means the three of you can’t go out for a while.”

   “We need them to go out, Geoff.” Jack deadpanned. “We need them to get money.”

   “You’ve got a job.” Geoff shrugged.

   Jack scoffed at that. “I have a part-time job in a bookstore, my pay check barely covers the rent. The Lads’ income, dirty as it is, is essential.”

   “Yeah, he has a point Geoff. Besides the three of us would drive each other – and _you_ – absolutely crazy being stuck in doors all day.” Michael pointed out, throwing an amused glance at Ray. The other Lad nodded in agreement, pulling an apologetic face at Geoff. “And anyway, what’s gonna happen to us?  We said no thank you to Burnie and he left us be with a business card. In case we change our minds. Which we won’t.” Michael shrugged.

   “No.” Geoff said so firmly that the one word alone enforced his authority greatly. “No, no. He’ll be back one way or another.”

   Michael gave a short laugh that came out more like a snort and Geoff frowned at him disapprovingly. “One way or another? What does that mean?”

   “He’ll either track you down again or wait for you to go to him.” Geoff clarified.

   “No why would we go to him? And what makes you so sure about all this, you don’t know the guy.”

   It was Geoff’s turn to scoff. “I know enough about him to be sure on this.”

   “Do you think he knows where we live? Knows about you and Jack and Ryan?” Ray asked.

   Geoff blew out a slow breath of air as he sank further down in his chair, his fingers playing at the ends of his moustache again. “No.” He shook his head. “He’s too arrogant. He won’t have bothered trying to figure where you live because he’s too confident in his charisma and charm.” He expanded in a bitter tone.

   “But if we don’t go back to him, he might make a point of finding out?” Ray considered.

   “It’s… It’s possible.” Geoff said. “Fuck…” he breathed. He was watching Ray now, eyes narrowed in contemplation. “He gave you a business card, you said?”

   “Yeah, why?”

   “Did he touch you? When he gave it to you?”

   “Yeah, we shook hands.” Ray confirmed.

   Geoff looked at Jack then. “What’s wrong with him.” He asked, referring to Ray’s sudden spell of sickness.

   As well as and elemental affinity for earth, Jack had some strain of healing ability. It manifested in a way that meant he could sense an affliction and would instantly know an all-natural cure for it – if it had a cure.

   “I don’t know.” He admitted. “I, uh…” He faltered, shrugging and running a hand through his hair nervously, as if he expected Geoff to shout at him for drawing inconclusive results. Geoff was usually easy-going, but talking about Burnie Burns and Rooster Teeth always made him tense.

   “You don’t know?” It was Michael who made the comment, but Geoff quickly shushed him.

   “How are your powers?” Geoff continued looking at Ray, his expression turning intense.

   “How… What?” Ray stammered, confused at the question.

   “Your powers, have you used them since you shook hands with him?” Geoff’s voice increased in speed and volume with his impatience.

   “I- no?”

   “Show me.”

   “Show you what?”

   “Your powers!”

   Ray huffed. Powers were like exercise: you had to practise and train to increase and maintain your capabilities. Powers took effort to use, and you had to be sure not to expend your capacity. Being ill, Ray wasn’t up for showing any fancy tricks. He reluctantly turned his attention to a shadow in the corner, stretching it towards him before making it take the shape of a dog chasing a cat around the seating area floor like an elaborate shadow-puppet show. He used to do cheap tricks like that all the time as a kid – mostly at Gavin’s request. It made Michael laugh and Jack chuckle to himself slightly, but Geoff was still stony-faced.

   “And your flight?” Geoff pushed. As Ray carefully stood up Jack opened his mouth as if to question his motives, but the older man waved his hand at him in a gesture that was as effective as telling him to shut up.

   Ray’s ability to fly was at a pretty amateur level. In the light of day, or out in open, light spaces, flight was a fairly taxing task to accomplish. But, in this dark room, with countless amounts of shadows to give him extra leverage, it should’ve been easy. Yet he stood there for a good minute, eyes closed and concentration focus on defying gravity with no sign of him gaining any air.

   “I… I can’t.” He said finally, slumping back down onto the couch and looking to Geoff for answers. Both Michael and Jack were looking expectantly at him too.

   There was too long of a silence before he finally spoke.

   “Well, fuck.”

 

* * *

 

   Ryan could feel a presence in the room. To be fair, he could feel them coming down the hall too, but now they were in the room. It was Gavin, he knew by the familiar pulse of affection vibrating in the telepathic link. He was glad he was here, but he still didn’t get up. Not until he felt the weight change on the mattress and Gavin’s gloved hand gently land on his shoulder.

   He sat up, facing Gavin, but not wanting to look him in the eye. He focused his gaze on his mouth instead, which was curved in a sympathetic smile.

   “Ryan.” He said. “Lovely little Ryan. It’s okay, Ryan.” He reassured. Ryan shook his head, no. “Yes, yes it is.” Gavin counteracted with a nod. “Don’t be silly, Ryan. Don’t let us Lads worry you over the dumb things that we do because we are dumb.” Ryan shook his head again and reached out to touch Gavin’s left arm lightly. “Ah, you felt that, did you? Was scary, wasn’t it? But it’s over now, Rye-Bread. We’re all good. Crisis averted.”

   Ryan looked up to meet Gavin’s eyes then. He liked that Gavin spoke to him just the same as he would speak to anyone else. Geoff was the only other one who would do that. Jack tried to, but often either came across as patronising or simply lost patience, which was slightly hurtful to Ryan because Jack was the most patient man he knew. Michael would seldom actually speak directly to Ryan in favour of addressing whoever was with him. Ray didn’t speak to him much either, but when he did it was usually telepathically. He knew it made Michael and Ray uncomfortable that he didn’t talk, but at least Ray kind of made an effort to be understanding.

   Gavin had obviously felt Ryan’s anxiety ebb away, because he got up to close the door and bounced back onto the bed with a surprising amount of force for such a skinny frame as his. The small apartment meant that the two of them had to share a bedroom, just as Michael and Ray did, and Geoff and Jack slept in the living area. The box-like room only had space for one bed and a mattress on the floor, and the idea was that Gavin and Ryan would alternate nights on each so they both got equal hours of sleep on the bed. The trouble was, Gavin preferred to let Ryan sleep on the bed more often, knowing he frequently got disturbing nightmares. Gavin would claim the mattress whenever he could, in the hopes that if Ryan slept more comfortably it would quash whatever haunted him in the night to some extent.

   Not that Gavin didn’t know what it was. The telepathic link meant that it wasn’t uncommon for them to share dreams. In fact, there would be the odd occasion where all six of them would have the same dream of a night. But Gavin saw Ryan’s the most – burning houses and harsh explosion and people screaming – and they would both wake up at the same time, Ryan wide-eyed and sweaty-templed and Gavin a little shaken but otherwise fine because he didn’t share the personal history of the images. He would get up and scoot into the bed beside Ryan, and just start _talking._ He’d natter away about anything –describing something that had happen to him that day, or reminiscing on past incidents: a prank the lads had played on Geoff or a mistake of Gavin’s that had caused Michael to beat the shit out of him, or something as simple as the origin of an inside joke. He would tell all these stories in his typical, hilarious, Gavin way, decorating the anecdotes with ridiculous sound effects and words Ryan had never heard before, and he would keep on finding things to talk about until Ryan had drifted off. And with Gavin next to him and his voice fresh in his mind, he would stay asleep; nightmares expelled for the time being.

   Though Ryan had telepathically caught glimpses of the conversation going on in the other room and knew there were pressing matters to be considered, he didn’t feeling the urge to think about them right now. He wanted instead to make the most of these moments of calm with Gavin. He was struck by a vague fear that relaxed companionship was going to be cut short sometime in the near future, based on a sense of foreboding that was flooding in from Geoff. He shook that away, pointing at the row of fat candles that sat on the window ledge, all different colours. A slow smile spread across Gavin’s face and he eagerly drew up on his knees, leaning against the wall beside the window, the same wall the bed was pushed up against.

   “What scent shall we have today?” He mulled, drumming his fingers on the ledge. Ryan made no suggestions so Gavin took it upon himself to choose. Ryan knew which one he was going to pick well before he lit it – he’d thought about it way before he’d pulled the candle closer to him. _Lavender_. He took off one of his gloves and dabbed the wick with his fingertip. It lit immediately, the flame strong and vibrant, and releasing a flowery scent.

    As soon as Gavin sat back, the bottom edge of the duvet cover sparked a flame of its own, making both of the men jump in shock.

   “Bugger me!” Gavin exclaimed as the two of them rushed to pat it down. Ryan pushed Gavin’s hand away though, knowing from previous experience that Gavin trying to extinguish a fire only fuelled it. “Shit sorry!” Gavin muttered as he struggled to put his glove back on with Ryan reaching over him to bat at the flame with a towel he kept handy on the bedside table. It was flame-beater-towel number two after the first one had burnt to a crisp. If they could afford an actual fire extinguisher Ryan would’ve gotten one a long time ago. Maybe he should tell Gavin to steal one.

   “Hey, I’m not stealing a bloody fire extinguisher, you absolute knob.” Gavin rolled his eyes and Ryan jolted, startled that he’d picked up that thought. Gavin smiled at him knowingly though, before the grin faltered at the sight of the burnt and still slightly smoking patch on the bed. “Ah,” he rubbed the back of his neck slowly – a nervous habit. “Sorry. Sorry about that.” He repeated, forgetting that this was Ryan he was talking to, not Michael who would yell at him, of Geoff who would lecture him on taking control lessons from Jack.

   Ryan gave him a content smile and shook his head fondly. It was not the first burnt patch to adorn the room. There were several marks on the walls, the door, the bedside table, the floor, even the ceiling, where the fire-wielder had accidentally combusted. The older of the two sat back against the headboard, intent on his previous aim to relax in the others company. Gavin followed suit, settling himself down into a position of comfort.

   “You know,” he started, “Lavender is supposed to be the most relaxing scent, _and_ is supposed to be quite good at helping with insomnia.”

   Ryan nodded his head. He did know, because Gavin told him every single time he lit that particular candle. And out of all the candles on the window ledge, the lavender one was the shortest, because it had been lit the most times.


	4. Salt & Vinegar.

  After expending his energy attempting flight, Ray felt much more worn out than before, and Geoff advised him to head to bed for an early night. Michael went with him, leaving Geoff and Jack alone together in the main room of the apartment. The apartment had an open plan layout; as soon as you came through the front door you were in the living area, a small TV was against the same wall the door was on, in front of the two couches where Geoff and Jack slept, and Geoff’s armchair. A wardrobe with a broken door stood in one corner, housing Geoff and Jack’s clothes, and the brown and blue rug on the floor was the very same one that had decorated Geoff’s first apartment. There was an office-type area on the other side of the door, where an outdated computer sat on a desk beside a tray of scrap paper and a pot of pens and pencils. A kitchenette took up the back of the room – essentially a corner of cupboards with an oven and a fridge wedged in between – and a breakfast bar and the abrupt change from carpet to tiles was all that separated it from the living area. Beside that was a corridor that lead to the master bedroom where Ray and Michael slept (they needed the extra space because making room for Michael’s temper was like accommodating a whole other person), the bathroom, and Gavin and Ryan’s bedroom.

  The main room was constantly dim due to the only window being boarded up after one of the estate kids had smashed it with a rouge Frisbee. Geoff watched Jack from his armchair. He was slightly illuminated by the weak and occasionally flickering light above the kitchenette as he stood making some form of herbal tea. Geoff himself was in almost complete darkness, the strongest light in the room, the one over by the office area, bled over to the couches by an amount not enough to be substantial.

  “How much do you remember about Burnie Burns?”

  Geoff’s voice was startling and ominous as it came from the darkness. Jack squinted to see him.

  “You mean from what you’ve told us?” Jack asked with a touch of suspicion. It should’ve been a nonchalant conversation but he felt urgency within Geoff, and sensed an intimacy to his question that suggested this was a discussion to stay strictly between them – as if they knew something Ryan and the Lads didn’t.

  “No,” Geoff shook his head. “I mean, do you remember ever… ever meeting him?” The hesitation before Geoff finished the question piqued Jack’s interest.

  “We met him?” His voice rose in surprise and Geoff quickly shushed him.

  “Once.” He emphasised. Jack could feel that he was lying, but he didn’t push it. Geoff’s tetchiness towards the subject of  _Burnie Burns_  made it a dangerous game to press the matter further.

  Instead, he turned back to making the tea for Ryan and Gavin. He figured they might want some to go with their candle after smelling the scent drift in from their room. Gavin had been obsessed with lavender since Jack had told him about its calming properties and sleep-aiding quality.

  As he stirred the boiling tea in the pan he mulled over the fact that he couldn’t remember meeting Burnie. It seemed odd to him because he wouldn't have been younger than six at the time – the age at which Geoff had taken him in. Geoff had been twenty then, living in an apartment on the opposite side of Achievement City from where they were now. Buda Estate, it had been called. Jack’s dad had taken him to a park there once. He’d spent little time swinging on the monkey bars and conversing with other children before a bluebeard shrub had caught his eye and he’d wandered over to it. It was quite a ways down in the field, and from where he knelt in front of the plant the chatter of the park-goers was a fairly distant noise. His dad came over after a while, hands in his pockets.  _“_ _I’m going to the store real quick. I’ll get you a treat.”_ He’d said, towering over Jack. The boy stood up quickly –  _“_ _I’ll go with you!”_  He’d said eagerly, but his dad shook his head and told him to stay and enjoy the flowers.  _“_ _I mean it, son. Don’t move.”_ had been the last thing he’d said before walking away.

  So Jack had stayed put, like the good boy he always was. He thought it was a bit weird that his father hadn’t returned an hour later, but Jack figured that maybe he’d decided to do a whole grocery shop. When he’d first said he was going to store Jack had assumed he meant to just pick up a few bits, but he started to reconsider. If it was taking him this long he must’ve been buying lots of things. He knew his dad had told him not to move, but he’d studied just about every inch of the bluebeard shrub in that hour, and the urge to play was starting to rise up again. He was sure his dad wouldn’t mind him heading back to the park.

  He played around like normal for another hour, finally coming to rest on the swings. He’d engaged in a Who Can Swing The Highest competition with another boy, but his mother had called for him to go home and Jack was left alone, swinging slowly, feet scuffing the floor and mind wandering back to his father.

  He began to worry that maybe something had happened to him. He didn’t know the area well, but on the way into the park he’d noticed several clusters of hooded teenagers hanging around the street corners, graffiti on the walls and litter on the sidewalk – all the kinds of things his parents had warned him about. He knew his dad didn’t have powers, and in this unfamiliar territory Jack began to fret that someone violent had approached his father and he hadn’t been able to defend himself.

  Looking around he realised the park was almost empty, last stragglers rounding up rowdy children and dropped toys. There were a few people walking their dogs in more distant parts of the field. None of the people around were his father. He decided to walk. He remembered seeing a small store around the corner – he remembered because when he’d first seen it he thought it would be nice if his dad would let him get some candy later. He thought he could retrace their steps back; see if there was any sign of his dad. He did find it fine and went inside but his dad wasn’t there. He hung around outside the store for a while until it started to get dark and he began to grow tired. It was with reluctance that he went back to the park – maybe his dad had gone back there anyway and was waiting for him – to take a nap on one of the benches.

  And then it was morning, and he was still alone. He headed back to the store to wait outside.

  He wasn’t sure how long after he’d been left, wasn’t sure if it had been three weeks or two, but a man approached him, eventually. It was not his dad. He was much younger and had a friendlier smile on his face than his dad had ever showed him.

  “Hey, buddy.” He said softly, squatting down in front of him. “What you doing out here by yourself?”

  “Waiting.” He replied timidly.

  “For?” The man prompted.

  “M’dad.” He mumbled, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet nervously.

  “I’ve seen you out here every day. You’ve been waiting a long time.”

  “He said he’d get me a treat.”

  The man went silent at that. Jack looked up to find blue eyes watching him intently. For some reason, they made him want to cry.

  “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” He whispered instead.

  “Well then. I’m Geoffrey Lazer Ramsey. You can call me Geoff.” The man revealed his identity, sticking his hand out.

  “I’m Jack… Jack Shannon Pattillo.” He said, his voice gaining the slightest amount of confidence as he put his small hand in Geoff’s larger one. He laughed a little. “Is your middle name really ‘Lazer’” He enquired, eyes wide.

  “Is yours really  _‘_ _Shannon_ _’_ ” He retorted, seeming to forget for a moment that he was talking to a small, recently abandoned child.

  Jack nodded slowly. “It’s a family name.” He said.

  “And are you gonna stick with that? ‘Cause if you ever wanted to change your name, now’s the time, kid.” Geoff made an effort to soften his expression. He wasn’t used to dealing with children.

  “Why would I change my name?” Jack tilted his head slightly, and Geoff sighed.

  “What have you been eating?” He changed the subject.

  “Vegetables.”

  “ _What_.”

  “Vegetables?”

  “ _Why?_ Where are you getting them from?” The look of disbelief on Geoff’s face was almost funny.

  “I’ll show you.” Jack said. Without thinking, he took Geoff’s hand and pulled him along. He took him to the park, down to where the bluebeard shrub was and pulled him down to his knees. He pushed the shrub aside, just enough so that Geoff could see the little vegetable patch. The man’s eyebrows shot up at the sight.

  “Did you grow these?” He asked.

  “You bet!” Jack nodded vigorously, the look of pride on his face making Geoff smile.

  It was then that Geoff realised, as Jack tenderly reached out to stroke a leaf, that the kid must’ve had a power to do with plants.

  “Hey,” he said, gently nudging him. “D’you wanna come over for some proper dinner?”

  Jack bit his lip at that, sitting back and looking dubiously nervous again.

  “Come on, I’m making chicken nuggets. Much better than vegetables.” He goaded, and Jack’s jaw dropped.

  “Nothing’s better than vegetables!” He said incredulously.

  “Alright, alright, you can have peas on the side!” Geoff said, and the boy was convinced.

  Jack didn’t move in with Geoff right away. He still had it in mind that his dad would come back for him at any moment. He didn’t want to betray him by suddenly taking on a new dad. He slept at Geoff’s most nights but would insist on staying by the store front in the day. He couldn’t remember how long it had taken him to outgrow it. Maybe a month or two.

  Living with Geoff wasn’t perfect. He would always be taking a swig out of some drink or other that he would firmly tell Jack he wasn’t allowed to touch. Whatever he was drinking made his temper short. He would never take it out on Jack, but he’d break a lot of things and often had people over with whom he’d end up in vicious shouting matches. One of those people had an affinity for electricity and would sometimes have to use it to restrain Geoff.

  One night Geoff had to go out and called one of them to babysit Jack and-

   _Oh._

_Holy shit._

  It had been  _Burnie_. Jack had been baby-sat by Burnie Burns.

  “So you do remember.” Geoff said, pulling him back to the present. Jack must have been projecting the images of his memories for Geoff to see and suddenly felt embarrassed.

  “I guess so.” He considered slowly. He turned the stove off, turning fully to face Geoff.

  “Just once?” Jack clarified. “That’s how you know him? He baby-sat me once.”

  “That’s it.” Geoff nodded. “Before he was a hotshot he was just the town babysitter. Pretty lame, huh?”

 _Lie, lie, lie_. He could feel the dishonesty with so much force his made him sick.

  “Mmm.” He hummed in agreement, pretending not to notice.

  “Don’t tell the others, by the way.” Geoff said sternly.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jack muttered. He moved back over to the oven, taking two mugs out of the cupboard on his way, before filling them with tea from the pan.

  Why was Geoff lying about all this? What was it about his connection to Burnie that he so badly didn’t want the rest of them to know? Jack wished he could remember more in more detail, but he guessed that the whole period had been quite a traumatic time in his life and his child-self must’ve blocked out a lot. Like, for example, why had Geoff so badly needed to go out that night? He remembered there being a particular reason but he couldn’t remember  _what_. Maybe he wasn’t told. And what had happened when he’d returned home because, Jack remembered with a sudden lurch of nausea, something had gone down that night. Something had made him hide in his room and throw himself under the covers and shove his pillow over his head as he tried to block the commotion out.

  And then he was hit by the random thought: when had Geoff stopped drinking? Sure, he drunk moderately now, but it wasn’t nearly as problematic as it had been before. There was a day, when Jack was a kid, where Geoff threw all his alcohol out and didn’t touch the stuff again until three years ago – when Jack had turned twenty-one. Was that day the after that fateful night, Jack pondered? Then he shook his head at himself and wondered what kind of crazy connections he was trying to link together here.

  “I’m gonna take these to Gav and Ryan.” He announced, picking up the mugs. He walked out of the room just as Michael was walking in.

 

* * *

 

  Michael went straight to turn the TV on, intending to throw some light in the room.  _Rising Stars_ was on, he noted, as he sat down on one of the couches.

  “Ray’s asleep.” He turned his gaze to Geoff. “What happened to his flight?”

  “Well Burnie took it, didn’t he?” Geoff responded. His voice conveyed testiness and his eyes were focused on absolutely nothing in the corner of the room. Out of the five boys under Geoff’s care, Michael was the one most frequently at the end of Geoff’s temper – but not without good reason. Michael wondered briefly if Geoff somehow blamed Michael for the Lads’ run-in with Burnie.

  “I, uh… what do you mean ‘took it’?” he asked a little nervously, and sure enough the question had the older man taking a deep sigh.

  “It’s his power.” He said shortly.

  “But I thought-”

  “Yeah I know what you thought, but you just need to trust that I know more about this than you do.” When Michael opened his mouth, Geoff cut him off again. “And I don’t want you to ask any questions about it, I’m trying to think, okay?” He said with finality that had Michael slouching back against the couch and turning his eyes back to the grainy TV screen.

  He watched without really watching, seeing Jon Risinger’s face occupy his vision but his mind wandering elsewhere. Before Geoff had cut him off the first time, he’d been about to say that he thought Burnie’s power was reading people – looking at them and knowing their personality inside out, the more he talked to them the more he’d know about their life, gaining access to their memories and thought processes. That was one of the reasons it had been so jarring sitting in the limo with him.  _‘Too proud of the tough skin you've developed as a kid born and raised on the streets to give up whatever morals you’ve convinced yourself you have by refusing luxury’_ he’d said, and it had hit too close to home. But then… neither Michael nor Ray or Gavin had known that Burnie had at least a mind-reading strain of telepathy that had allowed him to hear their internal messages, and with that in mind it wasn’t so hard to believe that Burnie Burns had other, unspoken-of powers. That just begged the question, how did Geoff know about it? The intensely harsh feelings Geoff harboured over Burnie had always been slightly questionable, but not enough for the boys to pay any real mind to it. Sure, they’d joke about it privately sometimes, mocking the tone Geoff got in his voice whenever he talked about Rooster Teeth, but it had never been cause for concern. Now though, new information was coming in that made Geoff’s adversity to the man more than a little bit suspicious.

  Michael slowly broke out of his reverie, his attention fully diverting to the TV.  _Rising Stars_ had gone to its game show segment,  _On the Spot_ , which included two two-person teams facing off against each other. One of the teams tonight was none other than reigning champions of the game: The Aphrodites. They were laughing hysterically at something, Barbara curled up in her seat and hugging her stomach, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, and Meg doubled over and slapping her own knee as she struggled to draw a breath. The image was so normal and so  _relatable_ that he could imagine it being him and Gavin or Ray up there, but in his mind he could see the contrasting picture of Meg grabbing Gavin, hurting him, and Barbara expressionlessly watching on. On the air, broadcasted to the whole of Achievement City, they were two free-spirited and lively women. Behind the tinted windows of the Rooster Teeth limousine, they had been cold, hard puppets.

  Not to get him wrong, Michael had never been particularly fond of Burnie Burns. He understood most of the concepts Geoff had tried to teach them about him – the way he saw his superheroes as a tool for making money, that he didn’t care about people, that everything he did was for fame and recognition, that he saw people with powers as his property. He had always been wary of him, but now he felt blood-boiling anger. His hands curled to fists as he thought about damn Burnie Burns and the nerve he had giving his Lad’s a  _preposition_ , and damn Meg Turney and Barbara fucking Dunkelman for just  _going with it_.

  The rise in his anger had Geoff’s attention snapping towards him.

  “What?” Geoff narrowed his eyes.

 “What?” Michael shrugged, failing at an attempt to act like he didn’t know what Geoff was referring to.

  Geoff tutted. “You know what.” He said, and rolled his eyes. He glanced at the TV for a second, before leaning towards Michael with new, temper-tarnished interest. “Were the Aphrodites there today? Did Burnie  _threaten_ you?”

  “No!” Michael said hastily, and then “Yes. No, no… uh… kind of. He was basically just like  _‘get in the fucking car or I’ll get these bitches to bitch-slap you, bitch_ ’” Michael put on a voice to imitate Burnie, trying to diffused the tension in the room with humour. Geoff only looked angrier. “That was it, then we got in the car and they just sat there, no big deal.”

  “No, tell me what happened.” Geoff enforced, sensing the lie.

  “Alright, alright.” Michael huffed, annoyed. “Meg hurt Gavin a little but he’s a big boy, and it was nothing we couldn’t handle.” Michael said quickly, not keen on divulging details when Geoff had been holding back so much from them.

  Before Geoff could interrogate him further, Jack returned to the main room, immediately balking and looking between the two of them.

  “Woah, what happened in here, this room is full of vinegar?” He remarked.

  “Nothing happened.” Michael turned to him, residual saltiness tainting his voice. “What’re them two doing in there anyway, making out?” He asked, referring to Gavin and Ryan. Jack pulled a face and shook his head.

  “Don’t say things like that, Michael, you lot are all practically brothers.” Geoff shook his head.

  “No, Ray, Gavin, Jack and me are all practically brothers. Ryan came in much later than the rest of us.” Michael countered as Jack sat down on the other sofa.

  “Oh come on, Michael, you think that way because you’re not that fond of Ryan. Gavin sees it different.” Geoff chided him.

  “Ah, but does Ryan?” Michael threw out, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Shut up, Michael.” It was Jack who scolded him this time, looking more peeved than Michael had expected.

  Michael shrugged it off and got up to leave. Geoff had made it very clear that he was in no mood for talking, and Jack seemed distracted. He did consider going in to see Gavin and Ryan - well, more Gavin than Ryan - but decided against it. He headed towards his and Ray’s room instead. Perhaps he should get an early night too.

 


End file.
